


#19 In formal wear

by 221_french_bee



Series: 30 Days OTP Challenge [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Insecure John, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Suit Kink, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5887774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221_french_bee/pseuds/221_french_bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John detested formal wear, but with his first Valentine's day with Sherlock right around the corner, maybe some pampering couldn't hurt.<br/>Day #19 of my 30 Days OTP Challenge!</p>
            </blockquote>





	#19 In formal wear

**Author's Note:**

> First post of my 30 Days OTP Challenge. I'm so exited!  
> Thanks to Jaz and CommunionNimrod for their beta reading.  
> Kudos and review are always apreciated :)

Sherlock didn't really do formal wear. Or, more precisely, he _always_ did formal wear, without thinking at it as formal wear. Except for the "boring" days, when the dressing gown was required, he always seemed to be in a ready-to-go-to-the-opera outfit.

So, let's rather talk about John, shall we?

John despised formal wear. Even as a younger man, he had never been interested in fashion. He preferred the classic design of simple cut, the plain materials, the predictable way of black, maroon and light colors. The obligatory army uniform had been a relief, and he never regretted the imperative of the fashion season. Back from Afghanistan to civil life, if his clothes were outdated, well, so it was.  
His only extravagance came from the pattern of his jumpers, and if a lot of people had called them ugly, nobody had ever called them formal.  
John had always regarded formal wear as constricting, inconvenient, and uncomfortable; nothing that he wanted to deal with in his life. He rarely bothered to buy new clothes, even more rarely tried them before buying. If his clothes were keeping him warm and decent, that was what he was looking for, and he was content with it.

But dating Sherlock Holmes would have given a little fashion complex to anyone. Surely John had already said it, but God, the man was fucking gorgeous! He had a keen fashion sense coupled with large amounts of money, and all of his clothes were tailored to emphasize the curves of his breathtaking body. His shirts were always tight on his lean torso, sleeves rolled and the top button opened to reveal his insanely white and creamy skin. John had never seen him in anything but classy trousers, enclosing his backside in perfectly form-fitting fabrics.  
And the coat! John had fantasizes about that coat alone. The heavy fabric was perfect to grab the infuriating detective for shut-up kisses, making his lips the same shade as the red buttonhole, the collar turned up to echo the sharp line of his cheekbones.

So yeah, sometimes, John felt a little self-conscious about the state of his clothes. He knew he couldn't really do anything about his appearance. He had always be the shortest in the room, his hair grew in untidy manners and was a boring shade of blond, and he knew that even if his body was well built, he had not the gracious ways of Sherlock.  
But he had built confidence over the years, and his mischievous smile and acidic humor had seduced over three continents before winning Sherlock's love.

But every now and again, he asked himself if maybe putting a little bit of effort in his clothes could be a good idea? Even if Sherlock had never said anything regarding this subject (and he never dared to ask, how pathetic would it be?) some of the glances he caught during their last date had made him cogitate.  
Valentine's day was right around the corner, so when Sherlock, over a decomposing body in a shady brug den, had declared that he had reserved a dinner table at Angelo's, it had been the little push he needed.

Why Sherlock had remembered Valentine's day but deleted his own birthday was over John’s head, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  
Surely “doing something romantic the 14th of february “ was listed on some on Sherlock’s chart. The manic scientist had established “romantic” lists when they first started getting out together, and John should admit that he found it strangely sweet when Sherlock hid his insecurities under the pretense of “scientific” experiments. He usually indulged him, as Sherlock was nothing but enthusiastic about his scientific experiments, especially when he chose items on the “sex position” list.

Anyway, they were going on a date on sunday night and John wanted to look his best for their first Valentine's day as a couple.

That how he ended in a posh shop, the address recommended by Mycroft, with his personal saleswoman focused on him. It took her 10 seconds to destroy all of his illusion about how he even have an idea of what would flatter him.  
He learned that he needed to wear more contrasting colors, a more form fitting costume, that his favorite striped tie should never see daylight again, and that this hue of yellow? With this hair? He couldn't be serious...  
After 3 hours full of mind-blowing fittings, he finally chose a new dark blue suit, three shirts with deliriously soft materials, and a striped waistcoat which make him feel very distinguished. The saleswoman had been delighted to know the occasion of his purchases, added heart-shaped cufflinks on the bag, and wished him a good night with a saucy grin.

He had no illusion about his capacity to paid the full bill but had stubbornly refused Mycroft's charity and insisted to pay at least half of the clothes' prices, resulting in a much lighter wallet when he got out of the shop.

On the evening on the 14th, he chose to dress at Greg's place when Sherlock went to 221B, wanting to keep his purchase a surprise and maintaining the illusion of a real date even if they were living together and both knew how the night will end (John hoped that Sherlock's “sex positions” chart will have some interesting suggestions).  
He was already in the cab in his new outfit to meet Sherlock at Angelo's when he felt his confidence run thin. What if Sherlock didn't like his new clothes? Or laugh at him? John felt a drop of sweat rolling on his back. Even worse, what if Sherlock didn't even acknowledge it?

He was nervously clenching his fist when he entered the restaurant, easily finding the detective alone at one of the most secluded tables.  
He even more nervously noted that Sherlock was wearing was John mentally called The Purple Shirt of Sex and had also styled his hair. John immediately felt the urge to pass his hand on the locks of hair, messing up the perfect appearance of his lover, making him close his eyes in bliss.

He stored this line of thoughts for later and came to stand awkwardly next to the table, lips dry as he waited Sherlock's reaction. The detective could only blink for a full minute, his eyes making up and down motion as he detailed his lover's appearance.  
To John's relief, he noted that Sherlock's pupils dilated and a blush came to color his clean-shaven cheeks.

“John, you look... It's very...”

He didn't finish his sentence, but John didn't mind, satisfied to have made his detective speechless. And also aroused, if Sherlock wiggling was any indication. He finally relaxed and leaned to kiss Sherlock on the lips, intending for a light peck on the lips. But Sherlock deepened the kiss, his eagerness making for the words of praise he couldn't find.

They shared a delicious meal at the light of the candle dutifully brought by a smillng Angelo, finishing with a decadent chocolate cake that tinted their kiss in a rich cacao flavor.  
John couldn't help grinning thought the dinner. He felt warm and giggly as Sherlock's fingers kept brushing on his wrists while he played with the ridiculous cufflinks, his mind getting clouded by desire as they shared small talks and a delicious bottle of French wine.

They barely made back home before Sherlock was all over him, kissing frantically the skin he revealed little by little, unfastening layers and making buttons pops open one after the other.  
John spend time pulling Sherlock's hair, mussing the scented curls and biting the soft skin of Sherlock's neck, for the pleasure of feeling the heavy locks brush on his temple and face.

All clothes discarded on the floor but for, as Sherlock's demand, John new waistcoat, they shared heated and delicious lovemaking during the night. When John opened his eyes the morning of the 15th, body aching in all the good places and arms full of snoring and lanky detective, he couldn't repress a smile and he definitely changed his view about formal wear.


End file.
